


Tainted Angel

by trylonandperisphere



Series: Tainted Angel (Boo! It's Halloween!) [2]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Romance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:49:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5117741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trylonandperisphere/pseuds/trylonandperisphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Halloweeny take on what happens after episode 3x10. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Angel

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw some of my cool friends writing Halloween fic, and couldn't resist joining in. This isn't the fic I meant to write, but it just.... happened? (I think I'm addicted to season 3 fix-it fic.)
> 
> Anyway extra special thanks to nerd-a1ert and thetravelingkid for being my first Patreon supporters! Yaaaaaay! Anyone who's reading this, please feel free to tell me what you think. Cheers and HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 

It was Sarah who noticed it first.  They'd all been talking and laughing and hadn’t even seen that Cosima had slipped back inside.  Their geek sestra was standing by the door, eyes far away, not moving to remove her coat and beanie, but just standing there, two fingers absently touching her lips.

 

To their credit, the rest of the group simmered down after a moment and looked to Cosima.

 

“Oh no.  What happened,” Felix asked, making as if to rise from his seat. “Where's Delphine?  If that willowy b—”

 

“She didn't do anything, Felix,” Cosima interrupted him, as Alison edged closer and put her hand on the scientist's arm.  “It's just… something isn't right.”

 

There were glances around the table, then Sarah reacted.

 

“What do you mean something's not right?  You mean more than the usual shite that's not right?”

 

Cosima shook her head slightly, as if to clear it.

 

“No, no… it's Delphine.  She was acting weird… like, off, somehow.”  

 

Felix rolled his eyes.

 

“Again, what's so different about that?”

 

Alison shushed him, then used her “gentle" voice on Cosima.

 

“Cosima, just tell us what happened.  Maybe we can help.”

 

“Um, I dunno,” Cosima sighed.  “I mean, she said she couldn't come in, but then I just, I just put it out there and apologized to her.  I told her that I thought I understood what made her push me away, and that I knew I'd been blaming her for stuff. And then she was crying and she kissed me…”

 

“Well, that doesn't sound—” Donnie began, but Alison shushed him, too, this time with more exasperated force.

 

“No, it's, it was the look on her face,” Cosima tried to explain.  “She was smiling and crying but then she said something… it was strange, she said ‘give your sisters all my love,’ but there was something in the way she said it that sounded… I don't know, kind of sad and scared.  It sounded so… final.”  Cosima made a cutting motion with her hands, but it ended with them turned up, as if in question, supplication.

 

“What do you mean, Cos,” Sarah asked, brow scrunching.  Somehow, she seemed to be translating Cosima’s unsteady intent behind her words.  Cosima took a breath.

 

“Then she just, she just left as quickly as she could… like, before I could process it, and I mean…” she looked up at Sarah, and there was a hint of fear growing in her eyes.  “It felt like she was saying goodbye.  Like she had no choice.” Cosima straightened up looking more frightened, more certain.  “Sarah?  I think Delphine is in danger.”

 

“Shite,” the punk clone hissed, and rose to her booted feet.  She zipped up her jacket.  “Alright, we'll find her, Cos. Who's going with?”  She looked around the table, her eyes settling on the policeman.  “Art, I think maybe we could use your help out there.  And maybe your gun.”

 

Art’s face rolled through its “extremely pissed" expression, but then he sighed and stood up.

 

“This is probably a bad idea, but fine.”

 

Out of nowhere, Helena hopped up to crouch on her chair, arm half-raised.

 

“I will.  I will go also,” she said, looking for approval from a hesitant Sarah, then turning to Cosima.  “I am strong and fast, I can help you.  Love must be protected.”

 

No-one really knew what to say to that, but Sarah finally sighed and jerked her head at Helena towards the door.

 

“Alright then, we'll go. Everybody else, just… enjoy the party.  We'll call you to check in soon.”  She walked to Cosima by the door and put a hand on her shoulder.  “We'll find her, yeah? Hopefully it's nothing.”

 

Cosima weakly nodded with a dry swallow, and the ragtag hunting party headed out.

 

******

 

They were settled in the minivan and on the road before Cosima asked:

 

“Where are we going?  I mean, there's no way she went back to Dyad.  You think?”

 

Sarah shook her head brusquely from the driver's seat.

 

“No, we'll check out her apartment, first.  Maybe she needs to get back there, before… whatever happens.  Anyway, there's a chance.”

 

Cosima slumped a little lower in her seat.

 

“Huhn.  You know, all this time in our… relationship… thing, and I've still never been there.”

 

Sarah glanced at her in the rearview mirror.  

 

“She was probably trying to protect you.  You know that's Dyad housing, right?”

 

“Right,” Cosima mumbled, but there was an unconvinced pout in her voice.

 

The building was sleek, dark and modern.  They circled it once to have a look-see before Sarah pulled into the parking lot entrance.

 

“Her spot’s on level C,” she informed them.  “At least we should see if her car is here.”

 

“You know her _parking spot_ ,” Cosima asked incredulously, arms flailing.  Sarah met her eyes in the rearview mirror.

 

“Well, we had to do the Helsinki thing, didn’t we?  We had to do some coordinating and stuff.  I was here once, alright?  She wanted to leave you out of it.”

 

“Right,” Cosima sighed.  “Leave me out of it.”

 

“Hold up,” Sarah said rounding the corner.

 

“She’s been shot,” Helena suddenly interjected.  “The woman is by white car.  There is blood.  We must see if she is alive.”

 

“ _What,_ ” Cosima shouted, as Helena threw open the door and jumped out before Sarah even stopped the car.  

 

“Holy shite,” Sarah breathed,  as she made out the details Helena’s eagle eyes had already spotted.  “She’s right.  Art?”  She slammed on the brakes and threw the gearshift into park, pushing open  her door as well.  Art met her look with a grim nod, and they both launched themselves out of the minivan, running over to the crumpled form on the asphalt.  Cosima froze for a moment, staring at the scene before her, disbelieving.  Slumped against a car was…

 

“Oh my God!   _Delphine!_ ”

 

Cosima tore out of the car and raced to where the other three were crouching by the French woman.  She barely registered glimpses: straight blond hair over closed eyes, long, slim fingers in leather gloves, a paling, slightly open mouth, and a too-large, dark red puddle on the ground.

 

“Ah, oh shit, oh shit, no… no…” She slid to her knees. Helena had already yanked up the unmoving woman's blouse and was running her fingers through the blood, seeking the point of entry.  Sarah dropped down, wide eyed, trying to keep her voice soft and even.

 

“OK, Cos, we’re… take a breath…”

 

“We’ve gotta get her out of here!”  Cosima’s voice had risen to a cry, raw and desperate.

 

Art crouched beside them, laying two fingers against the pulse point off the stricken woman's neck.

 

“Better not to move her.  I called EMS.  An ambulance should get here soon.” His face scrunched, tense, as he tried to find evidence of a beating heart.

 

“Yeah, I know, we have to—" Cosima frantically reached toward the French woman's torso.  “We’ve got to apply pressure...  It's near her liver, she’s bleeding out!”  

 

Helena gave her a brief glance and a nod, and startled everybody when she plunged her fingers directly into the wound.  She spared them another look and stated:

 

“Stop bleeding now; worry about infection later.”

 

Cosima breathed out a groan as she reached out to touch the edge of the hole in her love's flesh.  She shouted, voice raw, without turning.

 

“Sarah! We need to, to pack the wound! Find something absorbent in the car!”

 

“Do you know what you—” her sister clone began, but Cosima cut her off.

 

“Something to soak up the blood, Sarah, _now!_ ”

 

Sarah's eyes flitted up to Art’s and caught his brief nod. “Shite,” she whispered.  Within an instant she was running to the minivan.

 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” Cosima was chanting, as she pressed her fingers to the damaged abdomen, momentarily stunned at seeing Helena’s fingers probing under pale skin.  She stopped for a second, then reached up with her other hand and pulled her beanie off her head.  She wadded it up and began pushing it frantically into the wound, blinking her eyes to keep the tears that were pouring out of them from blinding her.  Sarah appeared beside her, clutching a box of craft supplies she'd found.

 

“I think there's some sponge—”

 

Cosima suddenly stopped, grunting. Helena looked at her, forehead scrunched. The scientist straightened up a bit, confusion and panic on her face, then leaned forward again, pushing with her fingers.

 

“What…” she questioned, under her breath. “I can't, something's blocking the—”

 

Sarah glanced up at Art again, who removed his fingers from the French woman's neck, and gave her a slow, somber shake of his head.

 

“What…” Cosima stuttered, again.  “I can't get it in… she’s— she's stopped bleeding…”

 

Helena suddenly grasped her sestra’s wrist, stilling her.

 

Sarah swallowed, laying her hand on the stunned scientist's shoulder.

 

“Cos… if she's not bleeding any more, she… her heart's stopped.”

 

Cosima looked back at her, eyes wide and lips trembling.

 

“No,” she said lowly, “it’s not that. It's the wound…”

 

“Cos,” Sarah started, lip trembling to mirror her clone.

 

There was a sudden gasp, and Cosima felt another hand encircle her wrist, just above her sestra’s.  She turned to look back in confusion.

 

It was Delphine’s hand gripping her.  The woman who wasn't bleeding’s eyes flew open, wide, hazel, and somehow unfocused.

 

“Робота диявола,” Helena spat, jumping back.

 

The grip on Cosima’s arm was beginning to tighten.

 

“Delphine?”  It was a quiet question, her voice almost childlike.

 

Still her former lover’s hand squeezed, like a metal clamp, pain shooting up the weeping clone’s arm. She felt a shift in her bones, an almost audible crunch.

 

“AH, Delphine! Delphine, it's me… OW! It's Cosima! You're okay… baby, _please,_ you're _hurting me_ …”

 

The blonde’s eyes snapped to look directly into Cosima’s.  Her hand let go, but a series of emotions kaleidoscoped across her face, almost too fast to follow. There was shock, there was fear, disbelief, and—

 

“Cosima,” she asked, almost in wonder.

 

“Yes, baby, it's me. You were shot, but we're getting help for you…”

 

Delphine raised her hand slightly, her fingers fluttering near her amour’s face. Cosima just barely flashed a smile of relief.  She leaned forward, taking the hand with her own, and pressed it to her skin, uncaring that it smeared blood across her cheek. Delphine’s other hand wrapped behind the small woman's neck, pulling her toward her.  She drew Cosima’s face close, closer, until their noses almost touched.

 

There was a shout from behind Cosima:

 

“Немає! нечестиві демон!”

 

Delphine let out a strange, low moan, then suddenly gasped, yanking her hands away.  She looked frightened, and then her face transformed into a wicked snarl, of pain or anger, Cosima couldn't tell.  The small brunette didn't even have time to react before Delphine’s hand grasped, twisting, at the collar of her coat, and then, just as quickly, Delphine yelled forcefully, her voice echoing throughout the parking garage:

 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

 

Her arm pushed forward with amazing strength, her grip letting go as Cosima’s form arced away from her, across the aisle.

 

Cosima landed on her back, hard, her head snapping against the pavement and her glasses flying off.  She reopened her eyes, ears ringing from the impact.  She felt off, more than stunned.  It felt like she had lost time between her landing and what must have been a return to consciousness.  There were sounds of a scuffle, panting and grunts.

 

Cosima rolled onto her stomach, sucking in air and wincing, then squinting, hands flailing along the concrete.  Finally her fingers found her glasses, and she thrust them onto her face.  The roiling tableau before her resolving into crisp, thrashing lines. Sarah and Art were struggling, each trying to restrain one of Delphine's arms.  Helena was actually crouched atop the Dyad director, fiercely squeezing and pushing down on her throat.  Delphine's face was contorted. She practically snarled at the wild-haired clone, ripping her arm free from Sarah and yanking one of the hands around her neck free, causing Helena to yelp at the sickening sound of a bone cracking in her finger.

 

Cosima pushed herself onto her hands and knees, her stomach lurching as she raised her head, vertigo swirling in her skull.  She yelled.

 

“Stop!  Stop!  Everybody, please!”

 

Delphine’s snarl vanished, her head turning to stare at her former lover, her expression mixing fear with concern.

 

“Cosima?”  Her voice was her own, if slightly distant, as though returning to awareness from a vivid dream.

 

“Yes, it's me, Delphine.  Please stop fighting.  We’re here to help you. Helena, let go!”

 

Delphine ceased struggling, but reached out to Sarah.  Her voice was desperate.

 

“Hold my arms.  Hold me!  Just don't let her near me.  Cosima, go away!”

 

Cosima sat, disbelieving, her mouth in an O, which slowly crumpled downward at the sides.  She sobbed, her head slowly shaking no of its own accord.  

 

Delphine deflated, hanging her head and biting her lip.  Helena still sat atop her, one hand planted on her chest, the other clutched under her own armpit.  Art held onto one of her arms, one leg locked over it in a wrestling hold.  Sarah clung to the other, panting, shocked, alternating glances between all of them.

 

“D’accord,” Delphine murmured.  She looked up again.  “Okay.  Cosima, I'm sorry.  I just need to get up to my apartment.”

 

Art looked at her incredulously, just loosening his hold.

 

“No.  There's an ambulance coming.  Just stay calm.”

 

Delphine turned her gaze to him.  Her voice came out calm, yet authoritative.

 

“No.  No ambulance.  Escort me to my apartment.  Now.”

 

She looked between the three gripping her.  Art and Sarah let go. Helena cursed in Ukrainian, gritting her teeth, but Delphine carefully removed the clone’s hand on her chest and pushed her back, till the sat back on her haunches, hugging herself.  Delphine rose and they all stood up with her, fumbling, unbalanced.  Not far away, the wail of an approaching siren could be heard.  Without a word, Delphine turned and entered the stairwell, three of them surrounding her, Cosima trailing behind, sick and shaking.

 

*****

 

The group climbed the staircase, saying nothing.  Cosima found herself clinging to the railing, in poor shape from her injuries and overloaded emotions.  She let out a gasp, turning a corner and feeling a stab of pain in her ribs.  Delphine, almost out of sight on the flight above, turned and looked down at her.  Sarah followed the blonde’s silent gaze, then jogged down the stairs to put an arm around Cosima to  help her.  As they exited the stairwell into a hallway, Delphine seemed to falter, swaying a bit, and put one arm against the wall to support herself, bowing her head.  Art immediately moved forward as if to support her, but she, without turning, held up a hand and he stopped.  After a moment, she straightened up and moved down the hall to a nondescript apartment door.

 

The apartment was spacious, open and modern, if a bit sparse.  There were just a few small touches of personalization to show someone lived here: a rumpled, cozy throw and pillow on the couch, a framed reproduction of the Vitruvian Man on one wall, small photos, a hanging plant with delicate, white flowers in one window, and a sleek planter with barely-pink calla lilies on a small table.  They all entered as if in a daze, stunned by the surreality of their shared experience.

 

Delphine’s body seemed to become more relaxed, grounded, as the door closed.  She still barely looked at the others, but her voice was softer, more inviting.

 

“Please, anyone who needs to clean up can do so in the bathroom over there.  I just need a moment in my room.  Cosima,” she seemed to hesitate for the barest second, “I can evaluate your injuries when I return.”

 

She disappeared into another room and shut the door.  Sarah and Art looked around and at the others, blinking, looking somewhat lost.  Cosima let out a breath and leaned forward, supporting herself with her hands on the table near the window.  Helena seemed to shake herself, then vibrate with a growing, agitated energy.

 

“We should not stay here. It is not safe,” she told them, clearly holding back the force and volume of her voice with a strained effort.  Sarah shook her head and looked at her mirror twin.

 

“Yeah, I get that, but… I wanna know what’s going on, now, yeah?  I mean,” she blinked rapidly, “what just happened?”

 

“Look, she’s alive and walking around,” Art stated, rubbing his chin.  “I can’t explain it, but she seems to be the best lead we’ve got on figuring things out. She’s been on the inside, right?  I mean, I might not know all the story but, when she comes back, we’ll ask questions—”

 

“Questions?  Pah!”  Helena interrupted him, clenching her fists.  “It is not safe here, especially for this one.”  She gestured at Cosima, who seemed to be fighting to even hold herself upright.  “The doctor woman is raised from the dead. She has put you in a spell.  We must leave now.”  She winced, as if in pain, and rubbed her temples, smearing partially-dried blood there.

 

“Raised from the dead?”  Sarah let out a strained huff of a laugh.  “What are you on about?  Don’t be so dramatic.  She must’ve just had, I dunno, less damage than we thought, or something…”

 

“Less damage, you say,” Helena asked.  “There was a hole in car behind her.  The bullet went through like—” she made a harsh tsss with her mouth, gesturing her hand back at her own abdomen.

 

“Guys, can we, like, calm down,” Cosima interjected.  “I mean, I’m not feeling well enough to go anywhere, right now.  I’m sure Delphine can explain this.  I’m… I’m just grateful she’s alive.” Tears welled in her eyes as she pressed her lips together, trying to hold her feelings in.  They paused, considering.

 

“Fine, you are crazy.  This is bad idea,” Helena finally grumbled, walking to Cosima and taking her by the wrist.  “Come, we will clean the blood off, though leaving would be better.”  She tugged the weary scientist into the bathroom and closed the door, the muffled sounds of water running, fumbling in cabinets and Cosima saying “ow” illustrating the actions within.

 

Art looked at Sarah.  Sarah looked at Art.

 

“This is—” she began, but Delphine walked back in, blood removed, hair smoothed, shooting the cuffs of a new, unsullied suit, her movements and posture returned to her regular vigour, as if months of healing could be circumvented by a strong will and a change of clothes.

 

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Delphine acknowledged, in a tone in between gratitude and professionalism. she turned and strode over to the bathroom door, giving it a light tap.

 

“Helena?  Cosima?  Are you alright in there?”

 

There was a low mumble in Ukrainian and a small exchange of whispers, punctuated by the slamming of a cabinet door.  Delphine sighed.

 

“I know Cosima is injured.  I’m a doctor, I would like to examine her and treat her.”  

 

There was a rustle mildly altered by the reverberation of tiled surfaces, and then the door was yanked open, Cosima returning to the living room with Helena frowning and stomping behind her.  They were both cleaner, the majority of the blood having been cleansed off, except for here and there under Helena’s nails and on their clothes.  Delphine walked to Cosima and took her hands.

 

“I would like you to sit down, alright?  I need to see where you’re hurt.”  Cosima nodded, with a worn but trusting expression, sitting on the couch.  Delphine knelt before her.

 

“Look at me, right in my eyes,” she said, and Cosima complied.  The French woman scanned her ex’s face searchingly, reached up to gently feel the back of her head, and then a place on her ribcage extending from her side to her back.

 

“I believe you’re concussed,” Delphine told her.  “And you have some serious bruising, as well.  The best thing would be to get you to a hospital.  Your sisters and Detective Bell can take you.”  She straightened up.  “I have some… things to take care of around here.”

 

“Good,” Helena grunted in satisfaction, taking the battered clone again by the hand and pulling her to her feet and halfway to the door before anyone reacted.

 

“Wait, wait,” Cosima suddenly insisted, digging in her heels and gasping when Helena’s forward momentum yanked her arm, straining the sore muscles in her torso.  “Why am I suddenly going to the hospital when I’ve kept being treated at Dyad?”  She twisted to look back at her former lover.  “You’re my doctor, more than Nealon ever was.  I know you can treat me.  And, and… I don’t know what you have to do here, but I almost just lost you… we need to talk, Delphine.”  She took in a trembling breath.  “I'm so tired.  Can we just… put all our cards on the table?”

 

The tall blonde’s eyes slipped shut for a moment, her nostrils flaring as she took deep breaths.  They opened again.

 

“Okay.  But just you.  Sarah and Art, you should take Helena back and take care of yourselves.  Try to make sure you’re seen as little as possible.”

 

“Okay, well—” Art began.

 

“What the bloody—” Sarah started simultaneously, seeming to rouse herself.  Helena just glared, clenching and unclenching her fists, attention focused solely on the Dyad director.

 

“Guys, guys,” Cosima overrode them, her voice with renewed strength, not yelling, but firm and insistent,  her gaze remaining locked on the face of the woman before her.  “I need to do this.  I’ll be fine.  Just… just let us talk.”  She partly turned, giving them a reassuring, yet resolved look.  “I promise I’ll call you soon.  Like, within an hour, okay?”

 

The other three paused, communicating with their eyes for a moment.

 

“Fine.  Forty-five minutes,” Sarah laid out, in that tone she reserved for not just convincing others, but herself.  “You don’t call me by then and we’ll bust down the door.”

 

“Should not be even ten minutes—” Helena began to press, but Sarah let out an “Oi” and hushed her.

 

“Forty-five minutes,” Sarah repeated holding up a finger.  “You two talk.  And… and I dunno.  Just, try to get better, or something.”  She rubbed her forehead, looking foggy, uncertain, then turned and put her arm around Helena, pushing her toward the door.

 

“Sestra—” Helena tried to start, but Sarah said “Helena” pointedly, and the pale clone allowed herself to be herded away.  

 

Art sucked his teeth, hands on hips.  He looked up at Cosima and Delphine, awkward and nonplussed.  

 

“Ladies,” he said.  He seemed about to continue, but he took a breath instead, giving one shake of his head.  He walked out the door, closing it behind him.

 

*****

 

The two women found themselves alone together.  Vulnerable, unsure.  Wanting to bridge the distance between them, but held back by so many roadblocks, so little time.

 

“Cosima—”

 

“Delphine—”

 

They both started at the same time and paused.  Cosima let out a brief, dry chuckle.

 

“Cosima, I’m concerned about your concussion,” the blonde restarted, pulling the coffee table closer and sitting on it in front of her.  “You really need rest to recover, not more stress.  I will give you some acetaminophen, but the best thing we can do is get you somewhere quiet and safe—”

 

“Ah, no, you’re not deflecting, here,” Cosima insisted.  “I know what I need, but right now I need to know what’s really going on.  Delphine, you were shot…”  Her chin trembled, tears springing to her eyes again, but she cleared her throat and held them back.  “You could have died.  I thought I’d never…” she stopped herself, blowing out a hard sigh.  “But you didn’t die, Delphine.  But you should have.  I mean, your wound…” She closed her eyes, seeming to steel herself, then pushed forward.  “Your wound was halfway healed.  I couldn’t pack it because it was… it wasn’t through and through, it wasn’t deep, anymore.  We, we weren’t getting any further than your rectus abdominus, were we?  And I saw the hole in the back of your jacket, the blood…”  She gave a tiny, slow shake of her head, closed her eyes against a wave of dizziness, then soldiered on.

 

“Delphine, is this some Neolutionist tissue regeneration bullshit?  Because if so, I deserve to know.  I ought to know if you’re working for them, and if they have the ability to… to make the human body _heal itself_ , then… I… I…”

 

“Shh, mon amour,” Delphine soothed her, touching the suffering scientist’s cheek gently.  “It’s not that.  It’s not Neolution, I've just learned how tangled up they are in all of this…”  The French woman sighed, her eyes wandering as if she could find the words or answers in some corner of the room.  She returned her gaze, and their eyes locked, once again.

 

“Cosima, I’m going to tell you something.  It’s something I didn’t want to tell you, and you’re not going to believe it, but it’s true, and you do deserve to know it, so you can make the decisions you have to.”  The corner of her bottom lip caught in her teeth, and she took both of her amoureuse’s hands in hers before continuing.  “I am… undead.”

 

There was a pregnant pause.  Cosima looked at her, sniffling, then her brows pushed together, angry or confused or both.

 

“Come on.  Don’t… don’t do this…”

 

“It’s true, my love.  I can explain it.  And,” she swallowed, “I can prove it to you, although I’d rather not have to…”

 

Cosima continued to stare at her, brows working, jaw slack, squinting as if she wished she could peer directly into Delphine’s mind, itself.  Delphine took and squeezed her hands, again.

 

“Think about it.  Haven’t you noticed the difference in me?  Didn’t you see all my blood on the ground, see me exercising my… influence against the others?  Please believe me, as horrible as it is, it’s true.”

 

Cosima’s voice rose.

 

“Saw a difference?  I thought you went to Europe, got promoted and got a straightening iron!  Don’t lie to me, Delphine—”

 

“I’m not.”

 

Cosima peered at the woman before her for a moment.  Delphine didn’t budge.

 

“Prove it,” Cosima finally said, waiting to have her heart ripped apart.  Delphine’s expression showed heartbreak, hesitancy, resolve.  

 

“Ah, show don’t tell, huh?” She finally nodded, then stood up, tugging on the smaller woman’s hands to draw her up.

 

“Come,” she said.

 

She led the incredulous clone by the hand into her bedroom.  She opened a closet and indicated a small refrigerator tucked away on the floor.  She swung out the door.  

 

Inside, were carefully stacked bags of labelled human blood.

 

Cosima stared, barely blinking, and Delphine began to talk, to tell her story before the clone could explain it away, accuse her of lying.

 

“When I was sent to Frankfurt, Rachel tried to have me killed,” she explained, the softness of her voice not entirely masking the height of her emotion.  “She effectively did.  There was a fire on the private jet, an emergency landing… by the time the rescuers got to me, I was battered from falling objects, knocked unconscious and internally bleeding.  I was burned over seventy percent of my body.  Even my lungs had been seared, scarred.”  

 

Cosima slowly turned to look up at her, unable to speak, trying to understand.

 

“But it turned out there were other forces at work.  Marion Bowles had me taken to a private hospital.  There I was put on life support and nursed until I regained consciousness.  It was a consciousness full of agony, screaming pain from what was left of my flesh, despair from thinking Rachel was hurting and killing me and would do the same to you.”  She took Cosima’s upper arms in her hands, standing close, giving them a squeeze.

 

“They limited the drugs I was on so I would be able to think somewhat clearly.  She put it to me: Dyad, Topside, Castor, Neolution… so many players, but they weren’t the only ones in the game, by far.  You see, Neolution wanted to evolve the human species, make it better, stronger.  But some people, including Marion, were part of a race that had already evolved beyond what humans could do, thousands of years ago.”

 

Cosima was wide-eyed, unnoticing even the barest shake of her head that was her subconscious response.  Delphine squeezed her arms lightly, again, and guided her to sit down on the bed.  The room smelled clean, of lavender and Delphine’s perfume.  But was there a faint tang of copper underneath it all?

 

“Cosima, she gave me a choice.  I could die as I was, failed and in pain, but a human, or I could become one of them, and still exert some influence on what was happening in Dyad.  I could help you, help protect all your sisters and work on a cure for you, but also a cure for having to drink human blood to survive.  And, I could also…” she looked away for a second, her expression troubled, abashed.  “I could also find Rachel, and have revenge.”

 

Cosima still seemed unable to speak.  Tears silently, slowly slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks.

 

“At the time, that was the least of my reasons for considering… this.  But when she drained me, tainted and turned me, when I healed beyond the strength I had had, even while healthy, and everything became amplified, almost maddening… there was a part of me that took a bitter satisfaction from my survival, my transformation, and wanted to give Rachel the pain she did not hesitate to give the rest of us.”  She licked her lips, casting her eyes downward.  “I think, perhaps… I don’t know all the particulars, yet, the changes that happen, but I think I let a little bit of evil inside me on that day.”

 

Cosima still watched her, overwhelmed, rapt, but the small scientist raised one of her hands and gently cupped Delphine’s cheek.  The taller woman nearly melted into her touch, but then grasped her wrist lightly, as if protecting them against too much contact, relief.

 

“So… I was able to come back here, to try to find out what was going on, but it was all very new to me, dangerous and hard to control.  I even did cause Rachel pain, on purpose, and while I was disgusted by my actions, that new part of me that had awakened enjoyed it. You see, I didn’t break up with you just to keep you safe from Topside, Castor and Dyad.  I needed to keep you safe from me, from what I had become.”  She inhaled, drawing up her posture into a straight, tall line, pulling away from her love as if she was so tempted it was painful to do so.

 

“And that is why you have to leave. Have Sarah and Mrs. S. take you somewhere safe.  I can deal with what’s going on here.  I’ll try to keep them off your scent, away from you, while I figure out what Neolution has to do with this, how deep it goes.  And I can send Scott with you, and send you every bit of information I get on researching a cure for you and the others.  I just can’t be with you… because having you close, wanting you with me for…” she swallowed,  “forever would be too hard.  I couldn’t jeopardize you like that, take that risk.”

 

There was a silence, then.  Delphine’s eyes were wide, pleading, overflowing.  Cosima stared at her in return, transfixed.  Then a change came over her expression.  Her eyes narrowed, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

 

“So let me get this straight.  You’re a vampire,” she said.  “You’re the, the stuff that legends are made of.  I mean, so am I, and my sisters, being clones, but being a creature of the night… I mean, come on, how does that… seriously, Delphine, we’ve never seen anything like that in science.  If it… it seems like a pretty big thing to happen, to keep from me, after everything.  You know, I—”  She flailed her arms for a moment, gesturing at everything, the whole situation.  “I’ve, like, seen you in sunlight, Delphine.  I’ve seen your reflection and I’ve touched your warm skin and I’ve felt your heartbeat. How could, how could you possibly…”  she trailed off, her hands spread in entreaty, trying to read Delphine’s expression.  The tall blonde sighed.

 

“It’s not all like the horror movies, Cosima.  I, I will prove it to you.  If you just… hhhhh,” she exhaled.  She stepped closer, again taking Cosima’s hand.  “I didn’t want you to know.  I didn’t want to lie to you, so I kept my distance, tried to keep our focus on the problems at hand.  But this is real.  You felt me grow colder, saw me bleeding.  You had your hand in my side, and now this,” she tugged up the smaller woman’s hand, sliding it under her shirt and pressing her fingers to the flesh of her torso.  Where the hole in her body leaking life had been, it was smooth again, pale, just the the slightest indent as if from an old scar remaining.  Cosima looked down at their hands and smoothed her fingers over the spot on Delphine’s stomach.  She gently spread them and touched the smooth skin, brushing the small, dark freckles she was so familiar with.  “This is real.  It’s not a lie,” the blonde told her, voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.  “You can feel it.”

 

Cosima blinked.  She pursed her lips.  She looked at the refrigerator full of blood, the perfect curve of soft, fair skin against her fingers.  She tilted her head back and gave an incredulous look.

 

“Really, Delphine?  Are you _really_ that Catholic?”

 

Delphine’s jaw opened.  She sputtered.

 

“I, I don’t—”

 

“Like, there I was telling you about my near-death experience, and thinking that you, you didn’t believe in anything beyond the science, and now _this_?”  She appraised the doctor, and put a palm to her own forehead.

 

“I… that was different.  I… I mean, yes, I thought of you when this happened, but when you told me about your experience I was overcome.  I was so glad you had survived as the person you are.”  Delphine tried to explain.

 

“But you didn’t tell me.  Why?”

 

Delphine blinked at the direct question.  She found her breath.

 

“I didn’t want you to see me that way, like this.  I wanted you to think I was still human, not this thing that I’ve become.  I wanted to protect you.”

 

Cosima blew out a long breath.

 

“That’s what I mean.  Have you really changed, as a person?  Are you running around torturing and killing people and raising your legion of the underworld?  Because from what I’ve seen so far, you survived a terrible accident, incurred some benefits and now are living on a,” she gestured at the refrigerator, “a bunch of blood bags.  I mean, aside from taking some supplies from the blood banks, I can’t see how you’ve changed much, except…”  she stepped closer, so close they could feel each other’s warmth, each other’s breath.  “Except you’re stronger, physically.  You can heal.  But you’re also more afraid.  You’re trying to keep everything under control.”  A small smile touched the corners of her mouth.  “Aside from that not really working, did you really think I would judge you for choosing to change to live?  Did you really think you had turned into some horrible, evil _thing_ , somehow?  Because, unless you have some more harrowing stories to tell me, I don’t see that you’ve done anything wrong.”

 

Delphine gaped.  Her mouth opened and closed.

 

“But I… I need human blood to survive,” she said.  “The hunger can get so terrible, when I’m weakened, have gone without.  I _tortured_ Rachel,” she ejected, voice breaking.  “I pressed my finger to her eye socket and caused her pain.”

 

“And you did that for… what, Delphine?  Shits and giggles?  Revenge?  Because considering everything she’s done I can accept you momentarily wanting to give her a taste of her own medicine.”

 

“No, I, I needed information.  She was planning on having you killed.  I needed to know the details so I could stop it.  But, I smiled when she gave in…”

 

“You did what you had to do.  To save lives,” Cosima pointed out, moving closer, so that their chests and bellies brushed against one another’s.  “You are not this thing that happened to you.  As far as I can see, though I don’t know the details, you’re a better _human_ than most.”  She cocked her head, and raised her hand, using her fingers to gently push a stray lock of hair behind the doctor’s ear.  “I thought you were a woman of science, Delphine.  Even if this is, well, Jesus, it’s weird, and surreal, that doesn’t make it _unholy_ somehow, not if you’re not hurting or killing anyone, really.”  She touched a hand to Delphine’s chest.  “Listen, I get that I made things hard on you, that I got mixed up and fucked up and I judged you, I judged you so _wrong._ ”  She took a tremulous breath.  “But I’m sorry for that.  I apologize, and while it makes sense that you thought I would judge you, again, for this…” She sighed, deeply, repentant.  “I just hoped after our last talks you might have seen I was coming around.  But I… I guess I acted like a dick for too long.”

 

Delphine looked rapt, amazed.  She cupped the brunette’s face in her hands.

 

“C’est vrai?”  She breathed the question, searching honey molasses eyes.

 

“I’m, I’m not gonna _demonize_ you,” Cosima reinforced.  “I’m… I’m feeling like this is a dream and I’m curious as hell to learn how this thing works, but I still see you.”  She took a deep breath, and stilled herself.  “I still love you, Delphine.”

 

Delphine looked down upon the love of her life in wonder.  She tried to say something, but couldn’t.  Instead, she pulled Cosima to her, she leaned down, and she pressed into her with a  deep kiss of yearning abated, gratitude and need.  Cosima met her kiss, still a little unsteady, but opening her mouth and trading caresses of lips, teeth, tongue.  It had always been like this.  Once they kissed each other, it consumed them.  It made Delphine push forward, as if trying to touch her soul to her lover’s.  It made Cosima loose and open, as if she was so in awe it was all she could do to give in, to offer up herself in surrender.

 

They kissed, and it spanned out.  It was tender, but infused with need, and hunger.  Hunger.  Delphine pulled back carefully, pushing a bit of space between them.

 

“Let’s be careful,” she whispered.  “We don't have a lot of time, and I want you so much, but I don’t know my strength.  I don’t want to hurt you, or be tempted to…” her eyes flicked down to Cosima’s neck, and she licked her lips.

 

Cosima gazed back at her, gears turning.

 

“Yeah, well… there still are some things I don’t get,” she announced.

 

“Of course,” Delphine nodded, trying to clear her mind, pay attention.  “Ask me anything.”

 

“Do you know, like, scientifically, what the basis of this… um, vampirism is?  Have you had any guidance?  How has it physically changed you, other than… I mean, the healing thing, that’s pretty big.”

 

“Mm,” Delphine nodded, eager to help as she could.  “We don’t know enough, scientifically.  There are folded proteins, similar to a prion disease, but the, the markers of the condition behave in ways like I’ve never seen… there are cells that are different from human cells, but they seem to behave like electrons in quantum physics.  They change their behaviour when they are observed.  It’s a phenomenon like some, some… unknown, impossible, rudimentary intelligence guides them.”

 

“Wow,” Cosima exclaimed.  “That is… I can see why that might bring back the the feelings of childhood religion, like, being overwhelmed by this, mysterious, omnipotent _thing_ and… but I bet we can can learn _so much_.  Think of the implications… the possibilities for healing…”

 

“Oui, but that’s what we’re afraid of, that Neolution wants to appropriate this and fundamentally change the human species.  That they’ll carry on despite not knowing the consequences, the power and thirst for blood it might unleash.  It is hard enough as it is, I’m told, with… with those who are now my kind living differently, trying to remain hidden and figure out how we can free ourselves from this need to consume.  We don’t want to take away from what human beings are, to alter them, pollute them.  We don’t want to think of the people we love as, as… cattle.”

 

Cosima nodded.

 

“But it’s not just cattle, Delphine.  It’s like… _sustenance_.  And how different is the sustenance of food from the sustenance that loving and supporting each other gives us?  I mean, sure, if you’re starving, but… life, living beyond mere existence, that…” her voice broke slightly.  “I can’t imagine that anymore, without you.”

 

Delphine pressed her forehead against Cosima’s.  She encircled her with her arms, holding her, comforting her, breathing her in.  They were still for a moment.

 

“And another thing,” the dreadlocked woman suddenly piped up.  “If you have that strength, that power to influence others, why don’t you use it more to figure what the hell is going on with Castor and Leda?  I mean, you kinda whammied us just with a look.  I would think that could get a lot of questions answered, not to mention the physically dominating bit.”

 

“It’s not easy to use, and, frankly, I haven’t wanted to.  You must understand, Cosima, I don’t know what I’m capable of.  I want to remain who I am, a person, not become this life form that is, I don’t know, callous, insistent… above it all somehow.  Just because you have a power, doesn’t mean you should use it.”

 

“Aaand it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t,” the brunette pointed out.  “Every power can fuck things up, but it could be helpful, too.  Isn’t it better than having to interrogate people and poke their eye sockets and run around and worry about getting shot?”  Delphine’s face darkened.  “Hey, no, I mean, I get what you’re saying, and I’m the one who started the whole thing with Rachel’s eye, right?  I mean,  I knew I had to protect us, protect Sarah and Kira.  I built something dangerous, and I felt bad that it disfigured her, but… not enough, you know, to stop me.  I mean, I don’t feel too guilty, even if I wish it didn’t have to happen.”

 

“Maybe,” Delphine allowed.  “But there’s a difference between doing that to defend yourself and not being able to stop yourself from draining someone…”

 

“Hey, whoa, I thought we were talking about the Jedi mind tricks, not exsanguination.  Does that really happen?  I mean, if you get really hungry, do you get so… do you feel you might kill me, even by accident, just to live?”

 

Delphine stared at her, thinking hard, worrying her lip in her teeth.

 

“Non,” she finally said.  “I would never allow it. Not with you.  I’d rather sacrifice myself.”

 

“I know.  Baby, I know,” Cosima told her, and brushed her lips with a chaste kiss.  “So, that’s all for further research and experimentation.  Your condition, the history of it, the effects, the abilities, the limits.  But there’s one more thing.”

 

Delphine met her eyes full-heartedly, ready to answer any question.

 

“Yes?”

 

“If this, this change you’re going through, if it heals you, makes you stronger, potentially gives you a much longer life, could we, would you use it somehow to help fight the clone disease?”

 

“Of course, mon amour, gladly.  But I’m afraid the research is just not there, yet, and I don’t know when it will be.”

 

“Yyyeahh, I figured that.  But what about the obvious?  I’m still really sick, here — not to mention my head is killing me.  What about… turning me?”

 

“Turning you?”  Delphine’s expression took a turn toward worry.  “Cosima, we still don’t know everything about this disease.  I only got the basic elements from Marion while I was there.  I don’t think we should look at what, what has until now been seen as folklore, a _myth_ , as a possible _cure_.  We don’t know the consequences, what it might do to you—”

 

“Well from my point of view, time is limited, and I just witnessed you miraculously recover from  certain death — and not for the first time, from what you’ve told me about it.  If it comes down to that, I can only work on the cure for the clone disease, and help you with analysing the, um, vampire… infection, as long as I’m healthy enough to work… as long as I’m alive.”

 

Delphine automatically gave her a squeeze, then looked down at into her eyes.

 

“Alright, my love.  We’ll look into it.  But I want to be careful.  There is a lot to do and think about, but I don’t want to change who you are, if I can help it.”

 

“Delphine, could you maybe think about that I don’t have that hesitancy you have?  That if it means I’m able to go on living, to be with you, so far I’m not really seeing any disadvantages?  I mean, research, yeah, but Kira’s in Iceland.  I’m not going to be getting any more marrow from her anytime soon.”  She linked her fingers at the small of the new vampire’s back.  “I don’t think the ability to heal like crazy, kick ass and persuade people to do what you want is going to take anything important from my humanity.  At least not enough for it to be worth dying for.  Plus, I have all these questions…”  a mischievous grin spread across her face.

 

“Such as,” Delphine asked, stroking the wispy hairs where forehead met dreads.

 

“Such as, when do I get to see them?”

 

“See what?”

 

Cosima swayed a little, keeping back a chuckle.  She linked her hands around the back of Delphine’s long, fair neck, and almost hung a little, suspending her weight on the other woman’s now supernaturally strong shoulders.  She looked up at her from under her eyelashes, and then nuzzled her clavicle, just brushing her lips and nose up to the French woman’s ear.

 

“Your fangs,” she said lowly.  “When do I see them?  You know I’ve heard so much about making love with a vampire, being bitten, as incredibly romantic and erotic.  I read all the books as a teenager. Maybe we should test that theory?”

 

“Cosima,” the blonde warned in weary wariness.

 

“What?”  Cosima pressed her tongue, then her teeth, into the pulse point of Delphine’s neck, giving a little nibble and suck.  “I’ve missed you.”  Delphine closed her eyes and actually trembled.

 

“Cosima, I have to get the files I came here for and get out of here.  Your health is compromised, and you are concussed.  I’m also pretty sure if you don’t call Sarah soon, Helena will show up here with a cross and a stake.  Do you really think this is the best time for…” She gasped, losing her thought, as the shorter woman slid a hand into her hair and bit her neck in earnest.  The blonde’s head lolled back, her mouth falling open with a silent moan, and Cosima peered up at her.

 

“There they are!  Wow, you look pretty fierce.  I mean, those things look sharp.  I wonder what they feel like?”  She brought her mouth to her lover’s and kissed her, began to explore.  Delphine was taking in great breaths of her, smelling her unique essence stronger than ever before, tasting her.  Cosima ran her tongue delicately along the points of the former human’s fangs, causing them both to shudder.  She slid a hand up inside Delphine’s shirt, and cupped one breast firmly over the bra, running her thumb across the nipple.  “You know, I think there are things you could give me that might help me feel better than a Tylenol…”

 

This time Cosima was the one with persuasive powers, and Delphine gave into the inevitable.

 

As she slowly sank her fangs into tender, proffered flesh, they both groaned, the mild intoxicant in the vampire’s saliva reducing the pain to a titillating, warmly burning sensation.  Delphine took in hot, vibrant sips of her lover’s life, and knew she would gladly give back hers to keep this woman alive, with her, and happy.  She gently lowered Cosima onto the bed, pressing their hips together as the smaller woman let out a small _oh_ , wrapping one leg around around the monster that she loved.  Delphine licked the puncture wounds clean and passionately kissed her beloved, savouring the sweet, salty taste of her as they began to rock against one another.

 

In the other room, a clone phone began to ring.

 

 


End file.
